


I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm

by huffpuffmcguff



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Future Fic, JUST A LOT OF SMILING AND CHRISTMAS TIME BANTER
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:17:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2705309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huffpuffmcguff/pseuds/huffpuffmcguff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three Christmas seasons that Laura and Carmilla spend together over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm

**Author's Note:**

> if this fic seems rushed, it's because I tried to knock it out as quickly as possible so I can get it out of my damn head and focus on finals next week. because, writing fic in order to focus _better_ on finals is a thing, right? that's productive of me, right? right?
> 
> also, consider this fic a product placement for Melissa Joan Hart's & Mario Lopez's greatest holiday masterpiece (yes, Holiday in Handcuffs is a real movie, it is delightfully shitty, you should all watch it).
> 
> let me know how y'all like it. comments are appreciated.
> 
> UPDATE: I did a thing on my phone and embedded the screenshots and i think it's adorable don't y'all aGREE??

**December 5, 2014**

It's a week before the end of the semester, and therefore it’s a week before Laura will go home for three weeks for the holiday break. Carmilla’s been especially broody lately, partly because after centuries of spending the holidays alone she resents the Christmas season, and partly because she isn’t looking forward to Laura’s being gone for three straight weeks.

Laura, on the other hand, has been downright jolly since before Thanksgiving. Though Carmilla thinks it’s cute, she can’t help but drop snarky comments about how dumb most Christmas movies are, and how all Christmas music is the same and it’s totally exhausting to hear _three hundred years in a row_. Finally, Laura offers a compromise.

“Would you watch a Christmas movie with me under the premise that we make fun of how bad it is?"

Once Laura explains briefly what the movie is about (“So, Melissa Joan Hart is trying to make her family not feel so bad for her this Christmas, so she gets this terrible perm and then kidnaps Mario Lopez from this diner she works at and takes him, as her hostage, to her family Christmas which is in this remote mountain cabin, and she makes him play along like he's her boyfriend, and then. . ."), Carmilla can’t resist.

The snark-ammunition provided by movie from the very beginning is just too much for her to pass up.

\------

Carmilla is sitting on her bed pretending to read, trying not to pay attention to the fact that Laura’s bags are almost all the way packed to go home, when Laura clears her throat to get her attention.

“Uh, Carmilla?"

“What is it, Creampuff?” Carmilla looks up, and sees a slightly bashful Laura, holding a small box wrapped in red paper with a big gold bow.

“I wanted to give this to you before I left.” Laura says, shyly. Carmilla, for once, can’t think of a thing to say.

“I didn’t… I didn’t get you anything.” Carmilla manages, finally.

“That’s okay!” Laura says, carefully touching Carmilla’s arm. “I didn’t expect you to! I just was thinking about how Christmas is coming up and, well, your... _family_ doesn’t seem much like the gift-giving type. I wanted you to get _something_ for Christmas."

“Thank you,” Carmilla says solemnly, studying the other girl's face.

“Well, open it, dummy!” Laura laughs, lightly shoving Carmilla's shoulder.

Carmilla smiles and looks down at the box in her lap. She pulls delicately at the strings of the ribbon and discards the bundle of gold next to her on her bed. She is halfway through peeling the tape from one side of the box when she hears Laura giggle.

“Any day now, grandma,” Laura quips. Carmilla shoots her a quick glare, which turns into a smirk as she continues to painstakingly unwrap her gift.

Finally, Carmilla opens the box and pulls, from a sea of decorative tissue paper, a black to-go coffee mug, with a large _CK_ on one side in bright red.

“It's dumb probably, but I figured, you can take your meals on-the-go and people will just think you’re drinking coffee.” Laura offered, suddenly shy again.

“It’s perfect.” There’s a pause, where Carmilla and Laura are just smiling at each other, and Carmilla feels the way you do when you get lost someplace beautiful. It almost scares her, and she flounders and breaks the moment, saying, “Well, you should probably go, Cupcake. You don’t want to keep father dearest waiting."

“You’re right, I probably should.” Laura agrees with a soft smile. She turns to gather her things.

“Thank you for the gift Laura. I really appreciate it.” Carmilla says quietly, just as Laura is about to leave.

“You’re welcome… Merry Christmas, Carm,” Laura returns, before she lets the door fall shut behind her.

\------

Laura wakes up early on Christmas morning, as she always does. She’s waiting for her hot cocoa to warm up as she types out a text message to Carmilla, wishing her a Merry Christmas. But it's not until later that evening (Carmilla's waking time, of course) that her phone buzzes in response, as Laura and her father are sitting by a roaring fire watching the Peanuts Christmas special, as per their tradition.

Laura’s jaw drops, and she’s glad her father’s attention is directed towards Linus’ monologue.

\------

Back in the dorm, Carmilla smirks as she sets her phone aside. She settles back into Laura’s yellow pillow (which Laura had intentionally “forgotten”) and takes a sip from her new to-go mug, even though she wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

 

* * *

 

**December 8, 2018**

“Do you need help?”

_”No!”_

Carmilla is sitting on the floor of the living room of their tiny apartment, with about 2 feet of their 8-ft tall fake plastic Christmas tree assembled, and the rest scattered around her. Laura leans against the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, arms crossed, with a smirk on her face.

“They didn’t even _have_ to make it this difficult,” Carmilla huffs. “Here’s what they did wrong, see the ends here, they taper, so each pole segment has to fit exactly into the next specific one. You have to match one end perfectly to the next or else the whole thing won’t work. It’s ridiculous. Ludicrous. Unbelievable. There are _so many_ better ways they could have done this."

“You should call the company and let them know they’ve failed,” Laura jokes. Carmilla just grumbles.

“I mean they could have just sold it all in a bigger box and you wouldn’t have to even assemble the trunk of the tree. You could just put the branches on.” Carmilla wrestles with some more of the plastic pole segments, trying to make them attach." She lets out a frustrated noise from the back of her throat. “This is almost more trouble than a real tree!"

Laura sighs, “Yeah, but fake plastic ones aren't a fire hazard."

“Yeah, yeah,” Carmilla mutters. “Stupid fire marshal, apartment safety code and all that."

Laura watches Carmilla struggle for a minute more. She knows better than to try to get in the middle of it.

“Do you wanna, maybe, look at the directions?” Laura offers cautiously. Carmilla freezes and looks up at Laura, stone-serious.

"Cupcake. I am over _three hundred_ years old. I do _not_ need the directions."

“Alright, alright,” Laura puts her hands up defensively. “Sorry I asked. I should’ve known, big bad vampire and all.” She smiles as Carmilla tries again to force the poles to fit together.

Laura retreats into the kitchen, calling behind her, “I’m making eggnog. Do you want some?"

There's a strangled noise, then, _”Yes!”_

\------

Hours later, the tree remains in pieces littering the living room, the task more or less abandoned. Carmilla’s head rests on Laura’s shoulder as they sit on the floor, leaning against the couch. Carmilla’s eyes are closed and she breathes contentedly, awake but mellow from her second (or third?) glass of eggnog.

Laura reaches for the remote, trying to disrupt Carmilla’s head as little as possible, and switches the TV on.

“Oh my god.”

Carmilla can hear the grin in Laura’s voice. “Hm?"

“Carmilla, look what’s on."

Carmilla peeks at the TV, then scoffs tipsily into Laura’s shoulder when she sees Melissa Joan Hart’s horrific perm.

“No way, Cupcake, this movie is terrible.”

“Come on, Carm, it’s not _that_ bad.” Laura giggles.

“Oh?” Carmilla says through a smirk, lifting her head to look at Laura, “Didn’t you initially convince me to watch it purely _because_ it’s so bad?"

“Yeah, but just because it’s bad doesn’t mean I don’t like it!” Laura laughs. “I'm fully aware that it’s no cinematic masterpiece, but I only led you to believe I didn’t like it to trick you into watching it with me."

Carmilla stares at Laura with a dumb, half-drunk grin for several long, unending moments. Laura erupts into a small laugh, shaking her head, then she looks back at Carmilla again.

“You like this movie.” Carmilla says, bemused.

“Yes.” Laura bites her lip to keep from laughing at Carmilla’s baffled stone-face, but she can’t help the chortle that escapes again. “Yes, I do.” She nods as Carmilla holds her stare. "I really do like this movie."

Carmilla grins at her half a beat longer, then shakes her head, perplexed but still smiling.

“Alright then, Creampuff,” Carmilla concedes, with a wave of her hand, “Let’s watch the damn movie."

Laura smiles, almost smugly, as Carmilla’s head returns to her shoulder.

\------

A couple of hours later, Mario Lopez is gaping on as Melissa Joan Hart performs her old figure skating routine from a gazebo on a frozen lake, surrounded by Christmas lights, as the music swells and the stars glisten above them.

Carmilla stands up and heads for the kitchen.

“I need another drink."

 

* * *

 

**December 3, 2022**

“Hold on, I’ll get the door for you!"

“Thanks, Cupcake."

Carmilla heaves a giant pine tree through the door of their new home. She navigates the half-unpacked cardboard boxes around her feet, and then sets the tree in the middle of the foyer.

“You think it should go in here?” Laura asks, uncertain.

Carmilla fluffs the tree’s branches, then looks up at Laura, “Yeah, what do you think? Seems like the classy place to put a Christmas tree, no?"

“Well, it looks pretty in here, but if it’s in the foyer we can’t smell the pine needles when we’re in the living room.” Laura chews on her lip.

“You’re right. Living room it is.” Carmilla lifts the tree again easily and carries it to the living room, followed by a grinning Laura.

\------

“Do you know where all the Christmas lights and stuff are?” Laura calls from a spare room that is full of unpacked boxes.

“I think in the box labeled ‘kitchen utensils?’” comes Carmilla’s voice from the other room. Sure enough, the ‘kitchen utensils’ box is full of tangled Christmas lights. Laura rolls her eyes and carries it back to the living room.

Laura begins untangling the lights while Carmilla starts to wrap them around the tree, but Laura takes one look and stops her.

“What?” Carmilla asks, defensively.

“You’re walking the lights around the tree like they do in cartoons!” Laura laughs. “You’re gonna just end up with a Christmas tree burrito that way.” Laura takes the lights from Carmilla and unwraps the tree. Then, from the bottom, she delicately weaves the lights through the branches.

“You have to thread them through, like this,” Laura shows her, “and start out really deep, near the trunk, so it looks like the lights are almost within the tree.” She finishes the first strand of lights as Carmilla watches her technique. Carmilla can't help but admire Laura's patience. That, and the adorable way her brows tighten just a bit when she's focused. When Laura steps back from her work, the bottom quarter of the tree is lit beautifully. “See?"

Carmilla copies Laura’s method with the next strand of lights. Laura smiles approvingly. “Perfect."

\------

The sun is setting when Carmilla finishes the lights, and Laura is nearly done hanging ornaments, which she plucks from a box labeled, 'clothes hangers'. Frank Sinatra’s Christmas album is playing from Laura’s laptop.

“I saw Sinatra perform once, back in the 50’s. The man could really croon.” Carmilla reminisces. She's on her tiptoes on the top rung of a stepladder, administering final adjustments to the lights among the highest branches. “And he had the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen,” she adds.

Laura smirks. “Had a little crush, did you?” Carmilla just scoffs.

“Let’s just say, while I understand the appeal, he’s not really my type.” Carmilla drawls. Laura, on the other side of the tree, gives a knowing hum.

Satisfied, Carmilla stretches and steps down from the stepladder, then rummages through the ‘clothes hangers’ box to find a big, silver star. She rubs away dust and fingerprint smudges with her sleeve, then looks up at Laura.

“Do you want to do the honors?” Carmilla asks her.

Laura looks up at the tree uncertainly. “I don’t know if I can reach the top, even on the stepladder,” she says.

“I’ll give you a boost."

Moments later, Laura is swaying perilously on Carmilla’s shoulders. Carmilla is grinning mischievously, staggering dramatically left and right, as if she’s struggling to bear the tiny girl’s weight. Laura lets out a little yelp as Carmilla lurches a little close to the wall, even though she knows Carmilla would never drop her.

“Hold still, Carm!” Laura scolds, and Carmilla rights them both, with a laugh.

"Alright, ready?" Carmilla asks as she stations herself in front of the stepladder.

"Mhm." Laura confirms, one hand holding the star, the other steadied on the top of Carmilla's head. She tenses as Carmilla moves gingerly up the stepladder, tightening her legs reflexively.

"Easy, Creampuff. I may not need oxygen anymore but you could still loosen up this vice grip on my neck." Carmilla jests. Laura giggles and leans up to set the star gently on top of the tree. Carmilla steps back down to see her work. “Looks perfect, Cupcake."

Carmilla lets Laura down off her back, and she hugs Carmilla from behind, resting her head on her shoulder and admiring their tree with a sigh.

Laura kisses Carmilla’s cheek, and her black, wavy hair smells like dust and pine needles.

\------

Carmilla had just started a fire in the fireplace using spontaneous combustion when she noticed Laura was untwisting the wire on a bottle of chilled champagne.

“What’s the champagne for, Cutie?” Carmilla asks.

“Celebration.” Laura answers, simply.

“Celebration of what? We moved in three weeks ago.”

Laura smiles and shrugs. “Just feel like celebrating.”

Carmilla leans against the front doorway as she watches a barefoot Laura pad out to the front porch to pop the cork. She's wearing just a t shirt and sweatpants despite the fact that it is well below freezing. "It's so cold!" Laura complains, and Carmilla can't hide a smile. The smile only grows when Laura jolts away from the _POP!_ of the cork, which flies in a smooth arc into the snow-covered yard. Champagne overflows from the bottle and Laura squeals a bit as foam covers her hand.

Carmilla sneakily pulls her phone from her back pocket, swiping open the camera to steal a few shots of Laura, standing under the porch light in the dead of winter, vastly underdressed, adorably licking foam from her arm and shaking the excess away. She gets the perfect photo though, when Laura looks up at Carmilla with a giant grin, and then another photo of her faux-insulted look when she realizes Carmilla is taking photos of her.

"You stop that!" Laura chides, but not without a smile. Carmilla reluctantly pockets her phone again, with a coy twinkle in her eye. She turns back into the house and pulls two wine glasses from a box labeled ‘Laura’s books’. She hands one to Laura as she's closing the front door, still shivering from the cold. “I don’t feel like looking around for the champagne flutes, so these will have to do."

“I’d happily drink this from a red cup right now.” Laura says.

They sit together on the couch with their champagne, Laura’s legs across Carmilla’s lap, Carmilla’s legs on one of the many cardboard boxes. Carmilla runs her hand absently up and down Laura's calves.

“Oh,” Carmilla says suddenly, setting her champagne down on the box that they had been using as a side table, and reaching for the remote, “I almost forgot!”

“You got the TV set up, finally?” Laura asks.

“Mhm, and look what I recorded for you.” Carmilla says, proudly. She pulls up the DVR, which has only one recorded program in it so far. Laura breaks into a giant grin as she sees the title.

“Carmilla, you hate this movie.”

“Yeah, but I love you.” Carmilla says, pressing ‘play’ on the recording.

Carmilla won’t admit that the damn movie is growing on her, too.


End file.
